Take This To Heart
by Paramore7
Summary: "Sleeves were pushed back down to hide angry, red scars. An empty pill bottle lie on the floor." After a break up with Blaine, the world crashes down on Kurt's shoulders. Will rehab be enough to save him? Klaine, Kurt/OC. Title from Mayday Parade song.
1. Intro

**Author's Note: Alright, so most everyone is going to hate the style of this, I do too, but I think it's kind of what I want—if only for this intro/prologue thing… **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee.**

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><p>The razor glinted in the over-head florescent light. Crimson drops were splattered across the tiled bathroom floor. Sleeves were pushed back down to hide angry, red scars. An empty pill bottle lie on the floor, bought only days before.<p>

Kurt Hummel stepped from the McKinley High restroom and made his way to his first period class.

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><p>"Kurt?"<p>

The counter-tenor blinked rapidly before bringing himself back to reality."...Wha?" Mr. Shue stood in front of Kurt, his arms folded, sheet music in his hands, and a frown on his face. The boy suddenly remembered he was in the choir room.

"Kurt? Are you all right? Rehearsal is over." The voice echoed in his ears, but the sound was slurred.

Kurt's perfectly groomed eyebrows crinkled. "Where...is everyone else?" The corners of the room began to blur, and everything was tinted darker than usual. Black orbs began to appear in his vision.

The Spanish teacher's eyes widened as the boy visibly paled in front of him. Placing a hand on either of the boy's shoulders he said, "Kurt? Kurt, answer me. Are you sick?" It wasn't until now that he noticed the bags under the boy's eyes. "Kurt?"

Kurt stood shakily, pushing past his teacher, but stopping for moment to catch his breath. "I need to...get home." He took another step, swaying to the left as his vision tunneled and the tiled floor grew closer as he collapsed into the darkness.

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><p>Sobs.<p>

Voices. He heard voices. Quiet, nearly silent murmuring. He recognized the voices-but it was too much work to place them.

Machines whirled. A heart-monitor beeped. An IV dripped every forty-five seconds.

Endless black appeared before his eyes, but his head was spinning. He felt sick to his stomach, but hungry at the same time.

Breathing was difficult. The rising and falling of his chest was labored. It felt as if a cement block had been set on his chest.

About to slip back under from the drugs on the IV when:

"Kurt? Son, oh God...how could I have missed this? ...Kurt, can you hear me? Are you alright?"

His father.

Kurt tried to open his eyes. To whisper reassurances. To scream. To tell his dad he was all right.

Yet he couldn't move.

Slipping back under, Kurt Hummel heard the sobs come back again and the door to his room close.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: So…that went about as expected; I'm not sure if I like it or not. Per usual. :D<strong>

**Peace, Love, Mark, and Iggy.**

**Kierstin.**


	2. You Be the Anchor, I'll be the Wings

**Author's Note: Alright, so this next little part is for AimlessGirl—in a completely twisted way only she would get. Long story short: we don't like Kurtofsky. :D**

**Disclaimer: I am not Ryan Murphy…but I have ideas he's free to use—like a Kurt and Blaine spin-off show where everything is Klaine and nothing hurts. :D (I am also not Mayday Parade.)**

**This chapter is based off of "You Be the Anchor That Keeps My Feet on the Ground, I'll Be the Wings That Keep Your Heart in the Clouds" by Mayday Parade.**

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><p>"<em>I could stand here for hours<br>Just to ask God the question, 'Is everyone here make-believe?'  
>With a tear in His voice, He said, 'Son, that's the question.'<br>Does this deafening silence mean nothing to no one but me?"_

_-" You Be the Anchor That Keeps My Feet on the Ground, I'll Be the Wings That Keep Your Heart in the Clouds," Mayday Parade._

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><p>"Yeah, Ma. I'll check on him."<p>

Dave Karofsky groaned as his mother kissed his cheek and scurried off to look after another patient.

The things he did for his mother… Granted, the kid was supposed to be out cold from the drugs for another three or four hours and Dave wasn't doing anything else, but still; it _was_ her job to watch the patients, not his.

Dave sighed and heaved himself from the chair behind the front of the nurses' station. This happened everyday; he would go to pick up his mother from work, only to find she had more patients she needed to check on or was working overtime. But Dave just sighed and opened the door to the room, walking in carefully.

He froze.

Kurt Hummel lie wide awake in the hospital bed. IV's, heart monitors, and other various tubes were hooked into his small, pale body. He looked so broken laying there, so completely helpless.

Dave took a step back, stumbling into the wall. "H-Hummel?" He let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding. "What the hell happened to you?"

The counter-tenor cleared his throat, and spoke. "…Karofsky? What are you—what are you doing here?"

Dave stepped back towards the smaller boy, going to stand at his bedside. " My mom works here. I was supposed to check and make sure whoever in this room was still out cold…What the hell are you doing in here?"

Dave watched as Kurt's eyes flicked to his arm and away again just as quickly. He stiffened and said nothing, clearing his throat after a moment.

But Dave saw the marks on his arms. The scars. The angry lines that showed a month's worth of self-hate. Of pain.

The boy's locked eyes and Dave swallowed. "Hummel…"

Before the other boy had a chance to defend himself, Dave was running from the hospital room.

Tears streaming down his face.

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><p>Blaine Anderson groaned as his phone rang, Maroon 5 blasting through his room. It was nearly midnight, and any normal person would be sleeping on a Tuesday night.<p>

He rolled over, grabbing his phone from the end table, checking the caller-id through his sleep-blurred vision.

_Kurt Hummel._

Kurt wouldn't call at this time of night without good reason. Blaine picked up immediately, slightly more awake. "…Hello?"

"Blaine? It's Mercedes."

Blaine frowned, his thick eyebrows knitting together, and sat up. "Mer-Mercedes? …Where's Kurt?"

The senior Warbler heard the girl take a breath. "Blaine…Kurt's in the hospital."

"What?" He nearly yelled, cursing when he remembered the time and that his family was sleeping. Blaine's eyes shot open, his hands began shaking.

Mercedes' voice shook, and Blaine realized she was crying. "Kurt, he….he—he cut himself…"

Blaine couldn't move, couldn't speak. Couldn't breathe. Kurt was so strong, how could he have—

"Where is he?"

The diva sniffed. "We're—we're at St. Joseph's. He's in room…227."

"I'll be there in two hours."

"Okay…" Mercedes hung up, and Blaine flipped his phone shut, cursing as he searched through is dresser, grabbing the first pair of jeans he could find and pulling them on.

He was pulling his shirt on when his father's voice came from behind him. "Blaine, what the hell are you doing? It's midnight."

The Warbler pushed past his father, moving into the hallway. "Kurt's in the hospital. I have to go."

Mr. Anderson's eyebrows crinkled and he grabbed his son's elbow to keep him from leaving. "Kurt…Your ex-boyfriend?"

Blaine flinched at the word. "Y-yeah…" He moved slightly back to break away from his father's grasp. "I have to go."

Running down the hall and out to his car, Blaine couldn't escape the thought that all of this was his fault.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: Alright, so I actually meant to add another part to this, but I figured I would update now and save that chunk for the next chapter. Hope this was okay!<strong>

**Peace, Love, Mark, and Iggy.**

**Kierstin.**


	3. The Mess I Made

**Author's Note: I really do apologize for not updating sooner. I just…couldn't find the right ending for this. I also would like to apologize for how slow the start of this is. I promise the next chapter will pick it up more. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or the song "The Mess I Made" by Parachute.**

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><p><em>I should've spoken up.<em>  
><em>I should've proudly claimed,<em>

_That, oh, my heads to blame,_  
><em>For all my hearts mistakes.<em>

_But, oh, I'm staring at the mess I made…"_

_-"The Mess I Made," Parachute._

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><p><em>"Kurt...We've been together for a few months now, and we'd been friends for a long time before that."<em>

"_Yeah…"_

_"And I was just thinking that...maybe..." A deep breath. Shaking hands. Sweating palms. "I mean, neither of us has had a real relationship before this..." _

_"...What are you saying, Blaine?"_

_"Maybe we should see other people."_

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><p>Blaine never regretted those words more than when he stood at the foot of the hospital bed in room 217.<p>

He watched Kurt lie there, broken and sleeping, curled under the blanket, shivering. Looking around, he found an old red blanket folded on the back of the chair. He grabbed it, placing it around the boy, tucking the edges underneath him gently. The counter-tenor smiled slightly in his sleep and Blaine had to clench his fists to keep himself from touching the boy.

Blaine breathed deeply, wondering how he could have let this happen. How could Kurt-strong, beautiful, talented, Kurt-fall to the point of self-harm?

Blaine just didn't get it. Granted, the few months he and Kurt had dated had been some of the best he'd ever had, and-if he was honest with himself-he knew still had feelings for the counter-tenor. But even if Kurt felt the same way, Blaine had been sure Kurt was stronger than that.

It just didn't add up.

Blaine jumped as a knock sounded from the other side of the door. Kurt stirred slightly, frowning in his sleep and rolling to the other side as Burt and Carole Hummel, as well as Finn Hudson walked into the room.

Carole gave him a small, tearful smile as she crossed the room to sit in the plush chair by the window. The Warbler swallowed loudly, nodding his hello to Burt who grunted, clearly thinking, _'You've got some nerve showing up here, boy.'_ Finn gazed at Blaine with glassy eyes, and the ex-boyfriend could tell he'd been crying.

Oh, God, what had he done? Why hadn't he-

A blood-curdling scream tore from Kurt's throat and he thrashed around fitfully, still asleep. The single, abrupt noise sent a chill through everyone in the room and Blaine visibly paled his dark eyes widening in fear.

Burt and Carole rushed to his bedside-one on each side of the bed-the boy's father shaking his shoulders. "Kurt? Kurt, wake up. Kurt!"

The counter-tenor shot up into a sitting position, sweating and shaking. His eyes were wide, his pupils dilated. The sight of him so afraid tore Blaine's heart in two.

Burt pulled his son close, patting him on the back comfortingly. "Kurt...Are you okay?"

A ragged breath escaped the boy. "Y-yeah. Just a nightmare." Burt pulled back, raising an eyebrow in question. "It-it was about...Karofsky. He, he was-Blaine?" He stopped, interrupting himself as his eyes focused on the curly-haired boy.

Blaine started, not knowing what to do. He looked at the broken boy in the bed and then to the large wood door before racing out of the hospital room and down the hall. Only when he reached the bench outside did he let himself dissolve into tears.

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><p>Blaine didn't know how long he sat there before he felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up to see Mercedes sitting next to him, her figure outlined by the streetlights. Her hair was sticking up at odd angles, the bags under her eyes dark and drooping.<p>

"...I know how you feel..." She paused, unsure of what to say, looking at the stars. "Kurt's like my brother. I know him like the back of my hand, white boy. And I know he wants you in there with him when the doctor comes."

Blaine shook his head before placing it in his hands. "Mercedes, all of this is my fault."

"Even more reason for you to be there, boy."

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><p>Kurt sat there, staring at the door Blaine had rushed through moments ago, but he was jolted back to reality as his father cleared his throat, pulling a chair over to the bedside.<p>

"Kurt," he said. "Just-I know I'm not good at this emotional stuff...and it might be too early to ask, but...why'd you do it?" He rubbed his hands together nervously. "Was it-because of that kid outside? ...Brian?"

"Blaine, dad...and..." Kurt wrapped his arms around himself. "And it wasn't Blaine...I guess that didn't help, but we're still friends."

Burt frowned, looking directly into his son's eyes. "Then why?"

Kurt broke the eye contact, fidgeting as he gazed out the window. "Karofsky...he, he...attacked me in the hallway a couple weeks ago after Glee. And he...he threatened me with a knife. He said that if I told anyone he'd tried to ki-" Kurt broke off suddenly. "I thought everything was okay..."

Burt shook his head, eyes misting over again. "What aren't you telling me, Kurt?"

A sigh left Kurt as he took in his father's state. He looked twenty years older than he had only days earlier as he walked over to the window. Kurt could see newly formed wrinkles around the man's eyes-but they weren't laugh-lines. Turning his attention to Carole, he saw that the past few days had aged her as well. Her makeup was smudged, and her eyes were teary. Though Finn had already left, Carole forcing him to get a ride home from Rachel and her family, claiming he needed his sleep.

"It's nothing, Dad." He frowned, tracing the angry scars on his arms. "Nothing."

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><p><strong>Author's Note: Alright, so I'm fairly proud of this chapter (minus the amount of time it took to finally get it up). I was messing around on my shiny Tumblr. :D Hehehe. (I linked it on my page.) :D<strong>

**Peace, Love, Mark, and Iggy.**

**Kierstin.**


	4. Falling Apart

**Author's Note: Alright, so we're finally getting somewhere. And we get to meet my OCs. I'm really, really nervous about them. Like, terrified. I hope they're okay.**

–**runs and dives into bomb shelter-**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything…except my OCs. I love them though. :D**

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><p><em>"So get me out<br>Start me over  
>Forever changed<br>I should have told you  
>Whoa-oh, whoa-oh whoa-oh<br>I'm falling apart."  
>-"Falling Apart," Matt Nathanson.<em>

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><p>Kurt sighed, leaning his head against the car's backseat window. Raindrops splashed against the cool surface as he looked up at the dreary, gray clouds in the sky. Of course it would rain today.<p>

He'd left the hospital a little over a week ago after a strong warning followed by a lecture from his doctor saying he needed to be sent to a rehab and self-help facility as soon as he was back on his feet and able to. For the eight days he'd spent at home, he rarely saw anything, but the back of his eyelids and the worried faces of his fellow New Directions members as well as his family.

Kurt still could remember the worried looks they would exchange when they thought he wasn't looking.

"Kurt?" The boy in question looked through the windowpane to see his father standing outside. He opened the door and Kurt stepped out to join him. They moved to he back of his father's car to grab his bags and threw open the trunk. "I checked you in. They said we're just supposed to settle you in and unpack and someone will be around to show you around before supper." He rubbed at the back of his neck when Kurt didn't respond. "Listen, I know it's going to be hard…But you'll get through this." Kurt swore he saw more tears in his father's eyes. "You're strong."

Kurt swallowed. "Oh, Dad." He grabbed his father and folded him into a hug. They stood there for a moment, not wanting to believe this had all really happened.

Burt stepped back and let go. "Let's go. You need to unpack."

Lying on the bed, Kurt stared at the boring white ceiling and the boring white walls. He was completely unpacked and ready for his tour. His father had left nearly half an hour ago, after a heart-felt-if not slightly awkward-speech about how much better he would be after getting the help he needed and that he would be back tomorrow evening.

There was a commotion of voices outside and the counter-tenor frowned, propping himself up on one elbow, looking to the door when a knock sounded. "Hello?" he called.

A tall girl with long, blonde hair that went past her shoulders stuck her upper half through the door. She was in an over-sized, scarlet, Ohio State sweatshirt and Kurt could see the edge of her ratty dark wash jeans through the crack in the door. Even from the distance, Kurt could tell that her eyes were a startling bright green and that she wore no make-up on her peachy skin.

"Hi," she said, grinning slightly. "I'm Emily and, well, apparently, I'm in charge of showing all the newcomers around…" She paused, pulling a sheet of paper from her pocket, unfolding it. "…Which is you…and only you. Weird."

The boy got up, his mouth turning up slightly at the corners if only to feign amusement. "Hello."

Emily laughed awkwardly. "Hey. I guess we'll get going. I just have to find Nick…" She trailed off as she turned and left the room, Kurt hesitating before following her.

The blonde walked down the hallway a few doors, her black converse squeaking slightly on the tile flooring, barging into the room marked 507. Kurt paused again, wondering whether or not he should enter before Emily reached through the door and pulled him into the room by his wrist.

The counter-tenor looked around the room. With the same basic layout as his own, it had a bed in the corner furthest from the door with windows on the far wall that showed the front entrance as well as the parking lot. Along the right wall, there was a dresser as well as a flat screen TV, currently on and hooked up to a Playstation 3. To the left was a closet and what a bathroom.

On the bed sat a boy, probably a year older than Kurt. He wore Jean-shorts and a plain gray T-shirt. His hair was blonde, skin tanned, and his eyes were a light blue. Even while he was sitting, Kurt could tell he was at least five-foot nine, a few inches taller than Emily. On his lap was a worn-out acoustic that Kurt could assume he'd been playing before he and Emily had barged in.

The other boy glared at Emily. "What do you want, Ems? Aren't you supposed to be giving tours right now?"

Emily jerked her thumb back at Kurt. "I am, but I need Nick. Where's he hiding out now?" Emily gave a sigh and turned to Kurt. "Sorry about this. My jerk of a brother can't keep track of anything—" She turned back to the other boy. "—Including people who are on the 'must watch' list!"

The boy blinked, as if just realizing Kurt was there. He gave him a small nod. "Hey. I'm Josh Myers. And how was I supposed to know he wasn't with you?" The last part was directed at his sister.

Emily threw her hands up in the air. "Who knows where he could be? With the way he's been acting this month, he could be—"

"Hey guys?" A quiet voice came from the door behind Kurt and the counter-tenor turned to see a lean boy, with a mass of straight red-blonde hair standing there. He had fair skin and piercing green eyes. He was a few inches taller than Kurt was. Kurt frowned when he noticed the bags under his eyes, subconsciously realizing the boy might be in the facility for the very same reasons Kurt himself was.

Emily spoke up, breaking his train of thought. "Nicholas Alexander Rowe! Where were you?" Josh rolled his eyes and shorted as she put his hands on her hips and tapped her foot impatiently.

The boy, who Kurt now knew as Nicholas, flinched slightly and held out a plastic water bottle. "I got thirsty...and then I went to walk outside..." He frowned, looking at Kurt as if trying to place him. His eyes widened suddenly. "Crap! I was supposed to help you do tours today wasn't I? Aw, man, I'm sorry Em. I swear I completely forgot! I mean-"

Josh cut him off. "Oh, relax. Em was just overreacting like always. She'll get over it." He narrowed his gaze at her when she huffed.

The girl took a second to swat at her brother before throwing her hands up. "Well," she said, making her way to the door. "I guess we should start showing you around before dinner. Come on, newbie." Josh scoffed and rolled his eyes but said nothing as Kurt followed Emily out the door the other boy trailing slightly behind.

As the walked down the hall—Emily talking about each and every room, paying no mind that Kurt wasn't listening—Kurt found himself looking for any sign of why the other two could be in the facility. They seemed normal enough…and happy enough. Kurt shrugged, deciding to stay out of other people's business. Besides, he was here to recover. He rubbed his arms subconsciously and jumped slightly when he noticed Nicholas frowning as he saw the scars.

The other boy shook his head. "I get it. I—I did the same thing once. I stopped…for a while but then it wasn't enough-" He stopped, his eyes wide. "Crap! This is exactly why they never have me do tours. And now I'm rambling and—" He stopped again when Kurt raised an eyebrow. "Sorry…I'm Nick, by the way." Nick blushed awkwardly.

Kurt grinned slightly. "Kurt Hummel."

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><p><strong>Author's Note: -crosses fingers- I'm sorry? You're welcome? I'll just go die in a hole now because this was awful? <strong>

**Peace, Love, Mark, and Iggy.**

**Kierstin.**


	5. Mad World

**Author's Note: ...I so need a beta. I am way too lazy to fix this...**

**Disclaimer: I only own Ems, Nicky-bear, and Joshy-Poo. (Don't tell them I call them that.) :D Oh, and nothing else is mine.**

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><p>"<em>And I find it hard to tell you,<em>

'_Cause I find it hard to take,_

_When people run circles it's a very, very,_

_Mad World…"_

_-"Mad World," Gary Jules._

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><p>"Blaine."<p>

There was no answer and the foot continued to tap sporadically. The squeaking of the boy's tennis shoes on the hardwood floor was enough to drive any other inhabitant in the room insane, but it was his subconscious's way to release his nervous energy.

Wes shrugged and motioned for David to try to capture his friend's attention. "Blaine...Blaine!"

The Warbler lead jolted, looking away from the window to face his friend. He blinked slightly, coming out of his haze. "What?"

Wes frowned. "We came over to give you the notes from Baldwin's class, not to watch as you slowly go insane." He paused, glancing at David for a moment. "And honestly, Blaine...sitting around here feeling guilty isn't going to do anyone any good. Go see him."

Blaine's eyebrows knit together and he looked at his hands in his lap. "But...I'm at fault for this. All of it, Wes." When he saw David's mouth open to protest he added, "If I'd just paid an ounce more of attention, I could have stopped it. I know I could have."

David sighed and Wes looked at him sadly, not quite knowing how to help. "Blaine," David said. "You have to go see him. You haven't seen him since he came home from the hospital and it's killing you. Imagine what it's doing to him; he's alone in rehab and his best friend is nowhere to be found." The boy cleared his throat. "He needs you."

Blaine shook his head. "I know, I just…what if I make it worse?" He searched his friends' faces and found nothing but sympathy. "I'm not exactly good with words, David."

Wes shrugged. "I just don't see how it could get any worse." He paused. "…He's already tried to kill himself, Blaine, what's worse than that?"

Blaine didn't have an answer for that.

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><p>A pill bottle in a shaking hand. Tear-streaked cheeks and puffy red eyes. A different set of eyes widened when they saw red seeping through the sleeves.<br>It took Kurt a moment to process what he was seeing when he walked into Nick's room later that night.

During dinner, Nick had invited Kurt to join himself, Josh, and Emily in his room around eight o'clock. He'd thought nothing of showing up a few minutes early. When he knocked on the door before entering and received no answer, Kurt peeked his head inside. There had been no one to be seen. Then he'd heard the sobs coming from the bathroom, the sound leading him to wear he was now:

Standing on the tiled bathroom floor, staring in horror at the broken body of Nicholas Rowe lying on the floor.

Kurt dropped to his knees beside the boy pulling him into an upright position, allowing the other boy to lean against him for support and carefully pulling the razor blade from his grasp. "Nick?" he said. When the boy blinked a few times and turned his head to look at him, Kurt spoke again. "Nick? Can you hear me?"

The other boy nodded slightly and swallowed the lump in his throat.

Kurt picked up the pill bottle, reading the label. Anti-depressants. "Nick, how many of these did you take?"

The boy shook his head jerkily. "...I-I couldn't get it open with my arms like...this..." He looked down to his arms where blood was dripping from his formerly green hooded sweatshirt onto the floor. He began to shake as tears pooled in his eyes. "I-I...I just wanted it to be over. It hurts."

The counter-tenor swallowed, still a bit shell-shocked. "We have to get a bandage or something on that..." He stopped when he heard a voice call from the other room, recognizing it immediately.

"Nick? Are you in here?"

"Emily!" Kurt yelled. "We're in here!"

"What are you guys doing in the bathroom, I mean-" Emily gasped when she appeared in the doorway, her eyes widening at the sight, but Kurt stopped her before she could speak.

"Go," he said. "Get a doctor. Get Josh. Just hurry and get help." He licked his lips subconsciously—a nervous habit.

She swallowed, eyeing the pills. Her breathing was deep and measured, as if she was trying to remain calm. "Did he-?"

Kurt shook his head stiffly. "No, he couldn't get to them—" She let out a breath in relief. "—Now, go."

The girl spun on her heel, racing out of the room. "Josh! Doctor Michelson! Somebody! It's Nick!" Kurt heard her voice carry down the hall and her footsteps echoing.

"Kurt?" Kurt looked down at the shaking boy who was now sitting his lap with the counter-tenor's arms around his narrow waist. His bright eyes were wide and his breathing was shallow.

Kurt sucked in a breath, chills running through him as he saw the fear in the other boy's eyes. "It's going to be alright. I promise it'll be okay." His hand rubbed a small circle on Nick's shoulder as he spoke. "I know how you feel. I know why you did it...But you have to stop."

The boy nodded shakily, and tears began to stream down his face. They fell to the floor, where they mixed with the blood there, diluting it. "I—I just…I don't know why I should live. I'm miserable…and I'm not helping anyone and I just don't see why it matters, Kurt!" He boy let out a choked sob. "And now everyone's just worrying about me and I just don't see why I'm still here…"

Kurt shook his head, his arms tightening their hold slightly, desperately trying to comfort the boy in what little ways he could. "Nick, people care about you, that's why they worry." Kurt sighed at the hypocrisy of his thoughts. How could he tell Nick this when only days early he'd tried to do this very same thing? "Emily…I know I've barely been here for a day, but she acts like you're just as much their brother as Josh is. Josh is the same way. And your parents—" Kurt didn't miss the way Nick flinched at the word. He stopped, mentally cursing himself.

"…You just have to find a reason to live for."

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><p><strong>Author's Note: Alright, so the conversation between Kurt and Nick where Nick says he has no reason to live is actually a conversation I had with my cousin not to long ago. Kurt handled it much better than I did, but the pressure he had to answer in just the right way was nearly lethal. I hope I did it justice.<strong>

**Peace, Love, Mark, and Iggy.**

**Kierstin.**


	6. Nobody's Home

**Author's Note: Poor Ems and Josh…**  
><strong>Disclaimer: I do not own.<strong>

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><p>"<em>She wants to go home, but nobody's home.<br>It's where she lies, broken inside.  
>With no place to go, no place to go to dry her eyes.<br>Broken inside."_

_-"Nobody's Home," Avril Lavigne._

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><p>Kurt looked up from the book setting in his lap as a knock sounded and the door to his room. By the low light of his reading lamp, Kurt could see Emily walk in, her arms wrapped around her waist and her eyes red and puffy. It had been two days since the counter-tenor had found Nick that night, and the girl was just as broken up about it as she'd been that night in the infirmary. Kurt could understand why.<p>

Emily grimaced, walking over and sitting at the foot of Kurt's bed. "Shouldn't you be in bed?"  
>Kurt narrowed his eyes at her. "Shouldn't I be asking you the same?" He sighed, marking his page and placing his book to the side. "You're worried about Nick," he guessed.<p>

She nodded, rubbing at her eyes. "I-I just...He's like my little brother. Josh and I have been here for almost a year and a half now...and Nick came a few months after us. I've watched him struggle to get better, Kurt... And he just doesn't care anymore."

She sucked in a breath, looking into his eyes. "He only does it for Josh and I, Kurt. He doesn't care anymore...and I'm afraid when Josh and I check out in a few months that he'll just...stop..." Her voice cracked on the last sentence, and Kurt saw a tear drip from her long eyelashes and down her cheek. It glistened in the darkness. She looked away from him, wiping at her cheek.

Kurt sighed, reaching out to stroke her arm reassuringly. He'd gotten to know Emily fairly well over the past few nights. "...He'll be okay, Emily. I promise. Everyone here will make sure he'll get help...And I'll be here."

Emily's head snapped up to look at him. "You promise?"  
>Kurt nodded. "Yeah..."<p>

Emily smiled tearfully at him, pulling him into a hug. "Thank you, Kurt. Thank you so much."

The counter-tenor hugged her back, slightly shocked at how emotional the usually bubbly girl was being. The sat there for a moment, comforting one another. "Of course." He pulled back, grinning at her.

Emily tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. "God, I'm a wreck..." She looked apologetic. "...I'm sorry about this. The withdrawal-" She gestured to herself wildly. "-it makes me emotional."

Kurt nodded distractedly, and his perfect eyebrows drew together. "Emily, if you don't mind telling me...why are you and Josh here?" When she started a little he added, "And you don't have to tell me...only if you want."

Emily shook her head. "No...It's just...a long story." She shrugged. "I guess...it really all started with me in the summer before my sophomore year."  
>"I was friends with some of the wrong people. Crack, alcohol, marijuana...they were into all of it." She licked her lips nervously. "My parents didn't know I...hung around with them. They had no idea; it would have killed them—but Josh did...and he also knew that...I'm bi." She looked up at him to gauge his reaction.<p>

When Kurt noticed her looking at him, and grinned. "Honey, I'm gay. If you're expecting a gasp of disapproval from me, you're not going to get it."

Emily smiled back at him, sighing in relief. "I only hope my dad will feel the same...The thing you gotta know about our dad is that, well, he's freaky religious. He's a pastor...He honestly thinks that gay people-people like you and me, are going to hell. And he's my dad..."

Kurt nodded solemnly; he knew most people didn't have parents as open and understanding as his. He was lucky to have Burt and Carole.

Emily swallowed, continuing. "I was afraid to tell him-I still am...And, and it led me to start using." Her voice was harsh and she cleared her throat, rubbing her palms together nervously. "I tried nearly everything I could get my hands on...Eventually I was addicted to cigarettes, to crack, to heroin, to everything. One day...I was shooting up and Josh found me. He was having an off day-I think he'd fought with Morgan and-"

"Morgan?"

"His girlfriend-still is." She paused. "…So I convinced him to share my needle." She choked for a moment, and her resolve suddenly broke. Tears streamed down her face, but she didn't let out a sob. "Josh is here because of me. I'm the reason he became addicted...I'm the one who ruined his life."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: Sorry it's so short guys…school started up and I'm crazy swamped. I promise I'll get the next chapter up as soon as I can. (Don't kill me?)<strong>

**Peace, Love, Mark, and Iggy.**

**Kierstin.**


	7. Weight of it All

**Author's Note: Okay, I really just want to apologize for this. I really have been trying to update, I swear. I just…life and writer's block have been killer lately. I've been up for the past few nights trying to get this out to you guys, so I apologize for any grammar, spelling mistakes, and general horribleness. (I have no beta, and for the past week I've been running on about five hours of sleep each night.) Sorry.**

**Disclaimer: I am not R.M. or Fox. I am also not Matt Nathanson.**

* * *

><p><em>"Show me where the sun comes through the sky,<em>  
><em>I'll show you where the rain gets in,<em>  
><em>And I'll show you hurricanes,<em>  
><em>And the way that summer fades. <em>_So you can pick me up just to put me down again,  
>Underneath the weight of it all."<em>  
><em>–"Weight of it All," Matt Nathanson.<em>

* * *

><p><em>Kurt swallowed, taking a step back and looking up, eyes wide, as the hulking boy backed him up against the gray brick of the bathroom wall. No one else was in the building save for himself and the other boy. He felt himself began to shake in terror, and it took all of his self-control to stop. "What do you want, Karofsky?"<em>

_The other boy laughed bitterly moving in closer, leaning so he could sneer into the counter-tenor's face. "You, Hummel." Kurt froze, nearly forgetting to breathe as Karofsky stroked a hand up and down his small, pale arm. "I know what I want now. I'm not going to tell anyone, but since you already know-" His hand moved to Kurt's side and the smaller boy let out a squeak, hating himself for being so weak. "-I figure you might as well help me out." Karofsky's eyes were silted, like a cat readying itself to pounce. He leaned in, connecting his lips with Kurt's._

_Kurt stood there, frozen, wondering how this could be happening to him again. He wanted to scream, fight, run, anything._

_But he couldn't move._

_He stood there, frozen, as Karofsky continued his vicious attack on the smaller boy's mouth, hands exploring the other boy's body. His hands traveled down the boy's torso to his waist. They stopped slightly before reaching for the button on Kurt's skin-tight jeans and—_

Kurt shot forward, automatically going into an upright position.

It had only been a nightmare...the same nightmare Kurt had had for months. They were always so terrifying-so real.

Because at one time it had been.

* * *

><p>Kurt took a deep breath and reached under his pillow, grasping the cool metal and pulling it out. The butter knife glinted only slightly in the overhead light. His sleeve was rolled up, revealing nearly-healed cuts and marks. It had been so long since he'd let it all out-but still he ached to do it again.<p>

Kurt couldn't remember the exact reason he started as he brought the serrated edge to his wrist, running it over the skin there so very gently. He just knew it was the only way he could let the pain of his life escape him. He relished in the feeling of knowing that this pain was something in his life he could control.

It was something he craved-something he needed. Without it, he didn't know if he could make it through the days. He—

Kurt froze as he heard Emily's voice float through the walls from the hallway. He listened closer, holding the knife a hair's breadth from his skin. He could hear Nick and Josh answer her as they walked by his door, their voices growing quieter as they made their way further down the hall.

He looked down at the knife in his hand, swallowing. This-his way of making himself whole again-was hurting other people. Physically hurting himself.

But he couldn't stop.

The cutting-it held him together. Built him up. Kept him from just completely giving up.

Since that night nearly a week ago when Kurt had found Nick, the counter-tenor had been repeating his mantra of "You have to stop." He'd never thought of how hypocritical he'd been. Nick most likely cut for the same reason he did:

It made the rest of the world go away.

* * *

><p>Blaine knocked on the hard wooden door with the number 503 painted on in beautiful black script. He stood there, hands in the pockets if his blue jeans, wondering to himself how to go about his long-overdue apology. He'd thought about it the entire drive here. And he still had no idea what he was going to say.<p>

"Um, hello?" Blaine looked over to see a strawberry-blond boy looking at him sheepishly. "I'm Nick...Are-are you looking for Kurt?" The boy tugged nervously at the edges white bandages wrapped around his arms.

Blaine frowned, nodding. "Yeah...But he's not answering his door." He gestured to Kurt's room. "Is he eating?"

Nick shook his head, moving slowly towards the door. "No, we already ate...Here, I'll go see." Nick knocked once before opening the door just wide enough to peek his head through. "Kurt?" Blaine craned his neck to see over the other boy, who was taller than himself by what Blaine had to guess was five inches.

Nick looked back at the Warbler over his shoulder, smiling slightly. "He's sleeping." He gestured for Blaine to follow before walking into the room, sitting int the green chair on the far edge of the room.

Blaine shrugged and followed, standing awkwardly at the foot of Kurt's bed. He bit his lip, wondering how they had got to this point. When Nick cleared his throat he looked up.

"So, um..." the boy looked away. "You're...?"

The Warbler put on his most charming smile. "Blaine." We made his way across the room to shake hands with Nick. "I'm sorry about that." He glanced to Kurt. "I haven't seen him since he came here, and he's the only thing on my mind. I-"

He stopped as Kurt stirred and rolled over to face them. His arm hung off the edge of the bed. Blaine's eyes widened as he saw the fresh gashes marring his perfect skin. The cuts looked as if they had been made within the day-maybe even in the past few hours.

The Warbler and the other boy locked eyes, bothered by the obvious signs of self-harm on their friend. Neither quite knew the reasoning behind it, but they came to a silent agreement.

Kurt was important to both of them in two different ways. One of them, he had saved his life. The other, Kurt had loved. He'd given them so much.

Now, they had to give back.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: I really, really, really just want to apologize for this. I know it's not up to par with some other parts of the story, but it's the only break in my writer's block I've had in so long that I feel like I'm lucky to have gotten this out. I hope you all aren't too terribly disappointed.<strong>

**Peace, Love, Mark, and Iggy.**

**Kierstin.**


	8. Syndicate

**Author's Note: I finally broke through this round of writer's block completely. You cannot even imagine how could I feel. Granted, I really need to get writing on another, ahem, Klaine project I'm doing, but I am so happy with this. Gah! I love this.**

**Disclaimer: I barely know what the word 'fray' means…And I'm a chick…who's in high school. The opposite of Ryan Murphy, who is a dude…who is not in high school.**

* * *

><p>"<em>Baby, close your eyes,<em>

_Don't open 'till the morning light,_

_Baby, don't forget we haven't lost it all…"_

_-"Syndicate," The Fray._

* * *

><p>Blaine sighed, looking at the boy in the bed. Kurt deserved better than this—this, this constant pain. Granted, no one deserved it, but Kurt of all people…Kurt deserved nothing other than to be happy.<p>

The warbler ran a hand through his gelled hair, cursing silently when it came back gooey. He looked at his hand distastefully, and looked up when he heard a quiet laugh.

Nick smiled at him, standing up and making his way to the doorway to which, Blaine now saw, was the bathroom. He disappeared and reappeared quickly with a handful of paper towels. "Here," he said, holding them out. "I've done the same thing. Emily always makes me gel my hair when my grandma comes to visit—which is about once every two months or so. I always forget not to touch it and—" He stopped. "Here."

Blaine smiled at him, taking the towels. "Thanks." He wiped up his hand and spied the trashcan in the corner, making his way over there. "So…Nick, right?"

The boy nodded. "Yeah. And you're Blaine, Kurt's…friend?" The end pitch of his sentence raised like a question.

The Warbler flinched slightly at the title. "Y-yeah. I've known him for about a year…he's important to me."

Nick nodded, understandingly. "He's lucky to have a friend like you to come visit him."

Blaine looked at the floor, swallowing the lump in his throat. "Yeah…lucky…"

* * *

><p>Kurt blinked the sleep from his eyes, blearily taking in his surroundings. Darkness became the stark white walls of his room and the sneering face of his nightmares became the caring face of Nick and—Blaine?<p>

The counter-tenor frowned, licking his dry lips. "B-Blaine?" He paused to yawn. "How long have you been here?"

"Only about thirty minutes." Blaine stood, making his way to the foot of the bed as Kurt sat up. "I—I came to apologize…for being such a jerk to you. I should have been here, helping you through this. I shouldn't have been hiding." He sat down, reaching out to grasp Kurt's hand gently. "I'm so sorry, Kurt, so excruciatingly sorry." Brown eyes smoldered as they looked into sparkling green.

Kurt looked at their intertwined hands, breathing deeply. Memories of their time together came rushing back. The good, the bad, everything. When he looked up, Kurt could swear he still saw the love in Blaine's eyes. "I know," he said.

Blaine smiled at him softly. He opened his mouth to speak, but stopped, catching something moving in his peripherals. Kurt followed his line of sight to see Nick standing against the wall awkwardly.

The redhead looked sheepish. "Uh…hi…" Nick looked at the door, then back at them. "I should go. You guys seem like you need to talk about stuff, and since I can barely form a coherent sentence, I should probably—" He stopped abruptly, clearing his throat. "Well anyway, bye. I'll see you in sessions, Kurt. Blaine…it was nice to meet you." With a small wave, the boy hurriedly made his way to the door.

When he was gone, Blaine raised his eyebrows in a silent question, gesturing towards the door.

Kurt smiled slightly, looking in the direction Nick had gone. "Nick's a little skittish…but his heart is in the right place, as cliché as it sounds."

Blaine's mouth quirked up slightly, and he reached over to place an arm around Kurt's shoulders. "I'm glad you had someone to look after you when I was gone." He paused, looking into his friend's green eyes. "But, Kurt, I swear I'll always be here. No matter what. Starting now, I'll always be by your side."

_Always._

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: GAH! Is it wrong to be proud of this?<strong>

**Peace, Love, Mark, and Iggy.**

**Kierstin.**


	9. For the Love Of A Son

**Author's Note: Dear God, I just found this song today. I bawled. And posted it on Tumblr to ruin everyone's mascara.**

**Disclaimer: I am not Ryan Murphy. Or Demi Lovato. But dear God, am I glad she's back. Pure talent in that one, my friends.**

* * *

><p>"<em>Four years old with my back to the door,<br>All I could hear was the family war.  
>Your selfish hands always expecting more.<br>Am I your child or just a charity ward?_

_You have a hollowed out heart,  
>But it's heavy in your chest.<br>I try so hard to fight it,  
>But it's hopeless, hopeless.<br>You're hopeless…"_

_-"For the Love of A Daughter," Demi Lovato._

* * *

><p>The sound of gunshots rung out and Kurt just shook his head, grinning as Josh let out a string of curses.<p>

He watched as a replay of how his character was killed played on the screen. "Damn you, Rowe." He slammed down the re-spawn button and muttered to himself under his breath.

Nick frowned at the screen, lying on his stomach on Josh's bed as he hit the buttons on the controller lightly, once again killing Josh's man. "You taught me how to play...your fault." He paused, flicking his eyes to the side. "Hey, Kurt, do you wanna play?"

Kurt bit back a laugh, leaning back in his chair. "I'll stick to plotting next week's outfits." He looked at Emily, who was lying on the floor, music blasting through her earbuds so loudly Kurt could almost understand the lyrics. "I'm going to go grab something to drink. Do you guys want anything?"

"Coke, for me." Josh paused, groaning as he died. "Seriously, man?"

Nick shrugged, looking sheepish. "What? It's not my fault." He looked at Kurt as Josh respawned. "Mind if I come with you?" The counter-tenor nodded, wondering why the boy looked so...apprehensive.

He tapped Emily's side with the toe of his McQueen boots and mimed out his question. She shook her head and caught the PlayStation controller Josh tossed her way. "You're going down, dude!" She yelled, loudly enough for her to hear herself over the music pounding in her ears. Her brother just rolled his eyes.

Kurt shrugged at Nick and they made their way to the door. They walked down the hallway towards the cafeteria in a companionable silence; the two had become great friends in the past few weeks-they all had.

Kurt smiled to himself slightly, thinking about his quirky friends. The three had their faults, their quirks. Everyone did. But Kurt also knew the things about them that made them, well, themselves.

Josh was the starting running back of his football team, but didn't have the same passion for it he'd had when he'd began playing. Emily wrote poems in her spare time that she'd rather die than ever admit were actual thoughts and feelings rushing through her mind. Nick had a scar that ran across the length of his right calf. When Kurt had asked about it, Nick had muttered something about his parents and saying it was a long story he'd go into later. Kurt made a mental note to ask about that scar someday soon as he and the other boy rounded the corner to the cafeteria.

They knew things about him as well. Emily and Josh knew Kurt an atheist. They took it in stride, accepting it as if it were no big deal. Nick and Emily knew Kurt was one of, if not the, biggest fashionistas in William McKinley High School history and was dying to dress the pair in something, anything other than sweatpants.

"Kurt?" Nick asked as they grabbed their drinks-lemonade for Nick, Coke for Josh, and bottled water for Kurt- from the cooler.

"Hmmm?"

"You...you're still cutting yourself aren't you?" Nick looked at him, his mouth in a tight line, eyes filled with so much worry that Kurt couldn't lie to him.

He pulled up the sleeve of his gray sweater, flinching at the sight of the pink strips marring the skin there. "Yes." He paused. "Are you?"

"Y-yeah."

The word hung in the air for the moment, staying there, leaving both boys immobile for a moment. They'd both known what had been happening behind the safety of their own closed doors; they'd known that the other had been doing the exact same as they. But having it out in the open, having that concrete confirmation that words gave them…Was different.

And hurt. Neither boy knew exactly what to think. They'd known. _They'd known…_ but they'd never wanted to believe it. So they just let the other go on with it, sincerely hoping that'd the boy had actually stopped. But they just couldn't convince themselves.

_Because they'd known._

* * *

><p>"Well...you asked, the other day how I got that scar..." They made their way back into the hallway slowly, Nick slowing the pace ever-so slightly as well as his words. "And, well, it's kind of the story of how I got here...in this place, I mean. As in Jacobson's Self-Help..." He paused, looking at the counter-tenor to gauge his reaction. "And, I just figured since we had a few hours until supper and..." He shrugged, trailing off and looking at the counter-tenor as they neared Josh's room again.<p>

Kurt bit his lip, taking a deep breath. "Come on," he said. He turned around, holding out a hand to Nick who took it gratefully, smiling his thinks for the comforting gesture. The counter-tenor smiled back at him, subconsciously realizing that…this is nice. Having a friend he can relate to on this level. Someone like Blaine.

He shook the thought from his head when they reached his room, slowly making their way in. Kurt sat on his bed, while Nick looked around awkwardly.

Kurt rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on." He patted the spot next to him. "I won't bite."

Nick smiled back at him once again grateful that the other boy understood. "Thanks," he whispered, sitting next to the counter-tenor. The strawberry blonde boy ran a hand through his hair and sighing. He didn't know where to begin. There was so much to tell. He placed his hands back in his lap and kicked off his shoes before sitting cross-legged on the bed. "I was six when my mom left."

He let out a breath, as if just getting that one sentence out was taking the weight of the world from his thin shoulders. And maybe, Kurt thought, it was.

"My dad was…horrible, honestly. He drank…constantly. When he wasn't drinking, he was smoking or hitting us. I never really blamed my mom for leaving him…I just always wondered why she didn't take us with her." Nick let out a short breath.

Kurt tilted his head in question. "Us?"

Nick looked away, nodding. "I—I have a sister. Ciana." He sniffed slightly and let out a bitter laugh.

Kurt frowned. "Where is she?"

"She's dead."

Kurt stopped for a moment, before reaching over to grab Nick's shaking hands. "I'm sorry." The boys locked eyes for a moment, one comforting the other without words. "I'm so sorry." Kurt squeezed the boys hands, and Nick squeezed back, needing the comfort.

The strawberry blonde shook his head after awhile, knowing that if he didn't start talking again, he'd never finish. "It—was a long time ago. Dad hit her so much, but he just kind of let me alone. So she took it. For me."

Kurt watched as the boy's eyes grew glassy and felt his own begin to burn as the story continued. "I wanted to help. I wanted him to just leave her alone…but I didn't know how to stop it—and he always threatened to hit her even more if we told anyone so we always kept quiet and…" He stopped abruptly. "Just after my ninth birthday, I came home one day and… I found her on the floor. She was already gone." Nick let go of one of the counter-tenor's hands to wipe bitterly at his eyes and Kurt felt his heart break for his friend.

"How—how old was she?"

"Fifteen." He choked slightly on a sob.

"Then it was just my dad and I…and I was the only one he had left to take it out on." He shifted slightly on the bed and let his feet hang off the edge, reminding Kurt of a little boy. "So I just took it. Exactly like Ciana." He laughed bitterly, looking to the counter-tenor as his eyes glistened with more tears.

"One summer he broke both my arms and a rib. That year I lied so many times…it was the year I came out." He glanced at Kurt out of the corner of his eye, and went on when the boy's expression didn't change. "One night…he came home more drunk than I'd ever seen him. He screamed at me. Called me a fag, a demon-child. He told me I was going to hell, and that I should get out of his house before he burned me like the trash I was…"

Kurt grabbed his hands again, rubbing circles into the back of his palms with his thumbs. Nick leaned against the counter-tenor, sniffling as he let the tears fall down from his face.

"That night, he yelled so loudly that the neighbors finally heard. They called the police…and they burst in just as he slapped me across the face." His hands began to shake and the New Directions member held them tighter. "They sent me to live with a distant cousin, and sent my dad to jail…but, as horrible as he was, I still feel like I need him."

Kurt frowned. "Nick…he hurt you."

"But he's still my dad. And, in some twisted way…I can't bring myself to hate him." He shook his head. "I don't get it, but I do…he's all I have left in my family."

"After I stayed at my cousin's for awhile, they started to realize I'd been cutting nearly all my life…and when that didn't help, I'd turned to raiding their alcohol cabinets. So they sent me here." He paused, looking back at Kurt. "She and her wife don't come visit. They live too far away to drive, and…well, they don't know me enough to visit or care anyways. Not that I really blame them. They write the occasional letter and pay the bill for the treatment every month, but..."

"I guess until I came here I never had a reason to even try. It just wasn't until Ciana was gone that I realized it. Now, Emily and Josh watch me like a hawk and Morgan makes sure to stop in whenever she visits Josh." He cleared his throat and they sat here for awhile in silence. Nick coming down from his emotions and Kurt soaking in all the information.

The silence was a like a blanket, covering them both. It protected them both from the rest of the world and their fists and biting tongues. It kept them safe, kept them together. And maybe that was all they needed. A friend to lean on, to support them.

* * *

><p>"Hey, Em?" Josh frowned, pausing the game and rolling his eyes Emily groaned.<p>

His sister glared at him. "What?"

"Where are Nick and Kurt?"

She shrugged, getting up and pulling her IPod out of her sweatshirt pocket. "Hopefully off making out in a dark alley. Then maybe Nick won't ramble so often about his hair."

"Or his eyes, or his clothes, or his personality, or his laugh." Josh snorted, laughing slightly. "Not likely." He grabbed her wrist and pulled her out of the chair, groaning in annoyance as she flopped to the ground, instantly becoming a dead weight. "Come…on! They have my Coke, and with how they've been acting, we should probably go make sure they're okay." He pulled harder and finally got her to her feet. "You go check the cafeteria, I'll go check their rooms."

He waited until he heard her mumbled a non-committal, 'fine' before going off in the direction of Nick's room. He frowned when he saw that the door was cracked open just the slightest bit, and peaked his head through it to see inside.

Kurt was sitting on the bed, Nick's head on his shoulder. They were holding hands, and it looked as if they'd both been crying. Nick was looking at their intertwined hands and Kurt was rubbing circles on the other boy's palms, looking at the head on his shoulder. They were sitting there in the silence, and Josh smiled as he watched them. Nick needed a friend like this once he and Emily left, and Kurt was a good guy.

He was just about to leave when Kurt looked up and cast him a small, sad smile. Josh smiled back knowingly, before moving back and slowly pulling the door shut behind him.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: Alright, so I got a new beta (LittleMissRainbow), whom I already love, but I wanted to post this so badly I kind of skipped the beta step and just went right ahead and posted it. I hope the mistakes aren't too bad. :D<strong>

**Also, I'd just like to say that I'm insanely proud of this chapter for whatever reason, and I want to thank all of you for reading this story. I love writing and I write for myself, but knowing that even one other person likes it is just...mindblowing. Thank you all so much!**

**Peace, Love, Mark, and Iggy.**

**Kierstin.**


	10. The End Where I Begin

**Disclaimer: I am not Ryan Murphy (though I hope I'm better at following a story line than he's been as of late). I am also not the Script. Though I kind of wish I was. :D**

* * *

><p><em>"Sometimes tears say all there is to say,<br>Sometime your first scars wont ever fade away…  
>Tried to break my heart,<br>Well it's broke.  
>Tried to hang me high,<br>Well I'm choked,  
>Tried to rain on me,<br>Well I'm soaked,  
>Soaked to the skin.<br>It's the end where I begin…"  
>–"The End Where I Begin," the Script.<em>

* * *

><p>"Kurt?" Nick said later that night as they sat in Kurt's room watching what had come to be their annual Thursday night movie.<p>

The boy in question looked away from the screen and over at the strawberry-blonde sitting on the bed next to him. "Yes?"

He looked in the direction the door that Blaine had disappeared through just moments before in search of something to drink. "Is Blaine your...?" He trailed off, not wanting to make things awkward, but hoping Kurt

catch on.

Kurt frowned and raised an eyebrow. "My what, exactly?"

Nick avoided his bright eyes, hands fidgeting and wringing together as he grew nervous. "Your...boyfriend?" He looked up, and upon seeing the slightly surprised look on Kurt's face quickly added, "Because he looks at you like he just cares so much, and like every time he sees you could be the last and...it'd be all his fault."

Kurt paused, biting his lip slightly as he reached over to grab the remote, muting the flirty duet between Roger and Mimi in preparation for the perilous conversation that was sure to come.

"Blaine and I...we dated, and I really, really cared for him-he was my first real boyfriend, and I was his first too. Neither of us was exactly sure what we wanted...but Blaine was the first to mention seeing other people. So we parted ways..."

"Oh." The strawberry-blonde shifted uneasily in his seat on bed, but not moving away from the counter-tenor. "Do you still...like him?" Nick avoided Kurt's searching gaze, knowing the other boy was trying to understand just what he was saying and every meaning behind it. He blushed crimson and rubbed at the back of his neck.

They sat for a moment in silence, Kurt searching for a hidden meaning. For Nick, what felt like hours passed and, finally, after some time the diva gave up, realizing that Nick wasn't going to give anything away. "I still care about him, completely...But I'm okay."

Nick swallowed looking at Kurt like he wanted to ask more, but didn't quite know how.

The counter-tenor sighed slightly. "He's not the reason I started hurting myself. Even if we were still together, I would have started. He may have been able to prolong it, but never keep me from it." He sniffed ever so slightly. "No matter how much he blames himself, it will never be his fault."

"Then why did you-?" Thee other boy trailed off, thinking he may have crossed a certain line.

Kurt sighed again, looking upwards towards the ceiling. "At my high school...I was the only openly gay student. I was tormented day after day. But I took and kept my head high." He paused slightly, smiling in just the slightest way, lost in his memories. "And when I met Blaine and transferred schools he helped me keep going-despite everything. We started dating after awhile and...I realized how much I missed everyone at McKinley. So I transferred back-but that also meant going back to face my past."

"The school loathed me except the glee club. The football team tormented me the most-including the lineman Dave Karofsky who was terribly, terribly closeted." Another pause. "He started...making advances towards me when we were alone. He was so much stronger than I am; I couldn't fight him off. It happened nearly once a week. My emotions were so...unstable... and I just needed a way to cope."

Kurt licked his lips nervously, and Nick reached over to grasp his hand gently, rubbing it soothingly. Just through that tiny gesture they knew they understood each other-that they could share anything with one another.

Nick shifted slightly in his seat, subconsciously lessening the gap between himself and Kurt who intertwined their fingers, squeezing his hand tightly. They smiled at each other slightly, relishing in the comfort they could give to one another. They sat there for a few moments, just being with each other, speaking comforts without words.

Most privy to the moment and the conversation between the two boys would have had the decency to leave them be in their own world.

Blaine Anderson was no exception. He backed away from the door, mind reeling with new information as he slid down the wall and to the floor. He pulled his knees up to his chest. The Warbler shook his head in disbelief, eyes burning and throat tightening with his conflicting emotions.

He rested his forehead against his knees and let out a shaky breath as he let a single tear fall down his cheek.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: I'm sorry if there's errors—I tried to read through it quickly so I could get it up today, but oh well. Hope it wasn't too bad. <strong>

**Peace, Love, Mark, and Iggy.**

**Kierstin.**


	11. Please ReadAuthor's Apology

**Author's Note: Alright, my darlings. I'm sure none of you read this anymore, but on the off chance that there is even one person who has this little story on their alerts still...I want to apologize. For not updating. For basically falling off the face of the planet and never explaining why. This story hits too close to home to update. To even write. Sometimes, I can't even think about it or I get upset. **

**That's because it's based on my experience with self harm. Yes, I have cut myself. Now, I'm getting better. But it's still difficult to admit to the fact that I did it. That I was weak.**

**So I would like to apologize to anyone who has ever or will ever read this. An update may come someday (I really am going to try to write today; key word being 'try'), but I can't count on that. So no, this story isn't just going to 'end', but it will take some time for me to finish it.**

**I hope you all can understand. Thanks for listening.**

**Peace, Love, Mark and Iggy.**

**Kierstin.**


	12. Thank You

**Author's Note: So, here it is. A full-blown chapter. It feels so good to be able to write this again. It really does. ****I'd like to thank all of you who reviewed that last chapter or even sent me messages, telling me to take my time, not to push anything. It really means a lot to have this unexpected support. This chapter is dedicated to all of you wonderful people who understand or can at least try to understand what it feels like to have some of the same problems Kurt, Josh, Emily, and Nick have. I find parts of myself in all of them, I can only hope you do too. Thank you.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or "Thank You" by Keith Urban.**

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><p>"Kurt?" Blaine's head peaked through the doorway of Kurt's room early that next morning. He was glad when he found the countertenor alone, listening to his IPod on his bed. "Can we talk?"<p>

Kurt frowned, pulling his earbuds from his ears as he sat up. "Of course...What's going on?"

Blaine ran a hand through his hair-he'd left it un-gelled for the day, as he was too eager to get back to the center and talk to Kurt. He made his way over to the bed and sat down next to the other boy, carefully choosing his words as he walked. "Kurt...I heard you and Nick talking yesterday."

Kurt's eyes went to the ground in a flash, but Blaine's eyes never left his face. The curly-haired boy laid a hand on his knee. "I'm sorry I didn't stop it."

Green eyes whirled up to lock with brown. "What?"

"I said, I'm sorry I didn't keep him from hurting you."

Kurt bit his lip. "Blaine, you didn't know. No one did, I hid it from everyone."

"Why didn't you tell me? I could have helped." Blaine's eyes burned like fire.

"I-I was scared." The look of confusion Blaine gave him made him go on. "He threatened to kill you if anyone found out."

Blaine felt his heart break. Kurt had only been trying to protect him. Even with all that was going on he still- "Kurt..." His voice broke.

"I know...but it's all over. He's in jail now, and I'm...here." Kurt looked back to the ground, hands shaking slightly in his lap.

"Kurt," Blaine repeated. His voice was breathy in Kurt's ear, and the countertenor couldn't help, but lean closer to him. He need the comfort. "Don't worry about me, okay? I can take anything you need to throw at me. I'm here for you." The Warbler paused. "And, promise me you'll never sacrifice your own well-being for mine-or anyone elses'. Maybe I'm being cold and selfish, but the entire world could end, and I wouldn't mind-as long as you were okay."

Kurt swallowed, not knowing what to say. He didn't understand what exactly Blaine was saying. Before, when they were together, random delcarations like this were normal. But now, he wasn't sure what to say. The words were too bittersweet now they were apart.

Blaine cleared his throat when Kurt didn't answer after some time. "I'm sorry. I just...I want you to be okay. You're my best friend."

Kurt looked at him, faking a smile. "And you mine."

* * *

><p>Josh sighed, as he sat on the bench nearest to Nick's favorite gazebo. (He rolled his eyes at the thought of calling it such. But really, if the akward boy wasn't in with Kurt or in sessions, he was there in the tiny wooden gazebo in the backyard of the center. Reading.) It was warm, but there wasn't another soul to be found outside.<p>

The former-quarterback re-read his email, deleting entire paragraphs as he edited it. He didn't know what to say. But, he thought, how would you tell your parents that you and your sister were going to be released from rehab after nearly an entire along with your sister while they were away on missions work? They should have been there for this. At least for Emily. She needed them.

He ran a hand through his hair. He shouldn't be thinking like that; it was selfish. His parents were doing missions work, for Christ's sake. Those people needed them more than he did. But still, he missed them. The crackling phone calls-when they could get reception-and emails just weren't the same.

"Josh?"

The blonde whirled around to face a voice he hadn't heard in too long. He paused, imobilized from pure surprise as he took her in.

She hadn't changed much. She wore her favorite jeans and, from what he could tell from the distance, the shirt and necklace Emily had helped him pick out for her on their first anniversary-she hadn't grown an inch. Her skin was still as flawlessly smooth as ever, but darkly tanned from the months working in the island missionaries. Her freckles lined her smile that shown even in her grass green eyes. Even from the short distance, Josh had never found her more beautiful.

"Morgan?" He called, already racing towards her as he left his laptop, abandoned on the ground. He ran as fast as his legs could take him, grinning as he saw her running too-he'd never felt more clishe. Morgan would tease him mercilessly for it later, but he flailed his arms back and forth, calling out all the way to her.

When they finally reached eachother, Josh laughed loudly, too in shock to ask why she was even here, not in South America on missions. He didn't need anymore reason to see her. His arm tightened around Morgan's waist as he held her close, burrying his face in her red curls. He breathed in her scent, savoring the moment. He didn't want to let go.

"Morgs..." he whispered, kissing her forehead. "What are you-how did you even get here? And why didn't you tell me?" He laughed again, pulling her in for a kiss before she could even open her mouth to reply to any of the given questions.

When he pulled back she shook her head, grinning up at him. "What was that?"

He shrugged reaching a hand up to toy with a strand of her hair. "I saw it in a movie once. It seemed romantic."

She rolled her eyes. "Your parents sent me. The center emailed them a week ago-why didn't you tell me you were getting out of here? I would have _swam_ to be here for that!" She mock-glared at him, pushing at his chest before making her way towards the enterance doors to the center. He followed after her like a puppy on a leash.

"I, being the wonderfully amazing girlfriend I am, made arrangments on the next plane out of Chile to Columbus. Besides, Jill's in charge down there now; your parents should be home in a few days...you'd be suprised how few flights there are to Ohio from another continent." She grinned over her shoulder at him, as she made her was through the halls. "This place hasn't changed a bit."

Josh snorted. "You've only been gone for six months...and it's not as if they had a lot of free time to renovate with Ems, Nick, and I around...and the other patients."

"Speaking of my favorite blondes, you guys are all in the same rooms, right?"

"Mhmm." He slipped an arm around her shoulder as she turned to go down their hallway.

She paused. "Wait-where does that other boy you were telling me about stay...Nick's new boyfriend? Kurt?"

Josh huffed. "'New boyfriend?' We only wish that was true. Nick's practically in love with Kurt...but I'm not sure if it's totally and completely reciprocated." He sighed dramtically. "He's right next door to Romeo #1."

"...'Totally and completely?' Meaning?"

"Well, Kurt and Blaine are still really close. You can tell that something's still there just by-"

"Blaine?"

"Ex-boyfriend slash best friend who drives two hours one way every day to come see him now that can because school's out."

"Oh." She looked at him, raising an eyebrow in question.

Josh shrugged as he walked over to the door to his room. "I dunno. I try to stay out of it, honestly. Nick falls in love a lot-"

"If that first month after you moved in was any indication. He was obsessed." She laughed, eyes brightening at the memory.

Josh grinned, opening the door and walking in. "I don't think I've ever eaten so many waffles...how did he know I like blueberries?"

Emily sat on floor, leaning against the wall. She held her notebook in hand. Nick was perched on the armrest of the chair Kurt was sitting in. Josh internally rolled his eyes. Blaine sat on Josh's bed (really, not an unusual occurance for him. He and Josh had become good friends over the past few weeks.)

Nick looked indigant. "Guys! I thought we agreed that never happened!" When Kurt shot him a look, he blushed brightly.

Emily snorted, but she smiled at him. "The cooks didn't have to make breakfast for weeks." She hopped up from her seat, and made her way over to hug Morgan. "What are you doing back here so soon? I figured you'd be hiding from that guy-" She jerked her thumb at her brother. "-for as long as possible."

Morgan laughed, pulling Emily into a hug, much to the other girl's chargin. "I came back for my boyfriend's release, crazy, I know." She smiled widely, eyes sparkling, and Josh couldn't help put smile too. "I heard you're getting out of here too. Are we still on for our dinner date at McDonald's and that road trip to Columbus, just you and me, Ems?"

"Well, duh!"

Morgan winked, leaning around her to see Nick. "Hey, you. Josh says you've been doing a lot better."

NiIck grinned, nodding. "It's been almost two months. Kurt's helping me a lot." He and the counter tenor shared a smile, and Morgan looked back at Josh in question who shrugged.

Morgan turned back to the boys. "So, you're Kurt..." She turned to the curly dark-haired boy. "And you're...?"

Blaine stood, offering a hand for her to shake. "Blaine Anderson. Kurt's friend. Really, I'm always here, though."

Morgan chuckled. "Sounds like how I was until missions started." She smiled at him and then tilted her head at Kurt and the others. "But it's good that you're here for your friend...and I could always use an extra hand to keep those three in line."

Blaine laughed. "I do what I can."

* * *

><p>Kurt walked into Josh's room later that night, chuckling as he spied Josh, hanging from his bed, upsidedown. His guitar was in his hands, and papers of guitar chords were scattered across the room. Kurt thought he even spied some stuffed into the chair cushion.<p>

"Rough day?" He asked, tilting his head to see the other boy right-side-up.

Josh let out a groan in response.

"Emily said you kicked everyone out, including your girlfriend, and then said you needed my help." His face twisted in confusion. "What happened in here?"

"You said in your old Glee club, you sang about your feelings, and that it was easier than talking about them." Josh sighed, falling from the bed to the floor. He stood, brushing himself off and picking his guitar back up. "I'm trying to find a way to use this-" He pointed to the intrument. "-to propose. Or at least ask to go steady or something." He paused.

Kurt's eyebrow shot up. "Josh, I'm flattered, really...but what about Morgan?"

Josh looked at him in that 'Okay-really-I-know-I-totally-set-myself-up-for-that-one-but-really-was-that-necessary' way. "I need your help. I just...can't find a song." He scratched at the back of his neck. "Help?"

Kurt smiled slightly. "What do you want to say to her?"

Josh sighed. "Are you really going to make me say it?"

The counter tenor shrugged. "You're going to have to say it to her sometime, with or without my help."

Josh glared at him. "Emily's rubbing off on you, Hummel." He sighed. "Fine...I just, I want to thank her for everything she's done for me."

"Go on..."

Another glare. "She's been with me since the begining. Every relapse, every moment of withdrawl. Everything. I'd always been the strong one-for everyone, not just her-I was always afraid that if I broke down I'd let everyone down...but when I did, she held me up. She never left, eeven though she probably should've. I love her, Kurt. Seeing her come back today, just because I'm getting out in a week or so, only reinforced that."

Kurt smiled slightly, shaking his head. The last time he'd heard someone talk about a love so sound, it'd been Blaine, speaking about him. But he cleared that thought from his head. Dwelling on the past wouldn't help. Besides, there were other fish in the sea-and he and Blaine could stand to be just friends.

"Broadway or country," he asked.

Josh frowned. "Country, definately...But what does that-"

"'Thank You' by Keith Urban."

Josh opened his mouth to speak, but froze for a moment. "I'd never thought of that one..." He let out a surprised laugh. "It's perfect, Kurt."

Kurt walked over to the endtable by the bed where the former-quarterback's laptop was lying. "Yes, yes. You can praise me later. Let's find the chords."

* * *

><p>Josh grinned to himself as he ran down the hallway, Morgan thrown over his shoulder, thrashing and squealing the entire way.<p>

She'd been sitting in the cafeteria with Emily, talking about nothing in particular when he snuck up behind her and grabbed her around the waist. She'd squealed, attracting a few looks from some of the patients there.

"JOSHUA MICHAEL MYERS! Put me down right now or I'll...I'll...JOSH!" She screamed even louder as he turned into his room. Slamming the door shut behind him with his foot, he skidded to a hault before tossing her gently onto his bed.

She landed with a squeak and bounced once before sitting up. "What are you doing? You could've missed!" she exclaimed, flailing her arms back and forth.

Josh grinned at her widely, unable to control himself. He made his way over to his girlfriend of so long and sat down, grabbing his guitar from the nearby stand. "I wanted to sing you a song."

Morgan let out a slight laugh, rolling her eyes back as her lashes flutter. "So you kiddnapped me and carried me the entire way to your room from the cafeteria, so you could sing to me?"

"Technically, yes."

"You are adorable."

"I try."

Morgan rolled her eyes again, giggling. "Alright, let's hear it."

Josh snorted. "Well don't sound so eager, jeez." But he took a guitar pick from his pocket anyways and began to strum.

As he played the into of the song, Josh looked at her intently, almost daring her to guess the tune. "Seeing you today was...amazing. I can't believe your really here. I don't know what to say...so my a good friend of mine told me to sing what I can't speak."

He began strumming louder as he launched into the song, his light baritone carrying through the room almost like a breeze.

_ "__There were nights where I was sure  
>I wouldn't see the morning sun<br>And there were days that seemed so dark  
>I couldn't wait for night to come<br>I couldn't stand to think about how  
>My life used to be<br>And how without a single warning  
>It all slipped away from me<em>..."

Josh stood, making his way around the room as he strummed the strings lightly, smiling at Morgan. She was looking at him, her eyes bright with her smile and her lips moving along with the words to the song she knew all too well.

_"Like a fool I thought I could fight  
>The shadows on my own<br>To the dark I was no stranger  
>But this was stronger than I'd known<br>And by the time I knew that I was in too deep I'd gone too far  
>And the light that used to guide me<br>Had faded from my heart..."_

Josh bit his lip as he strummed his way carefully through the bridge. As he looked at his girlfriend, he couldn't help, but be sure that she was the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. She'd saved him, truly and honestly saved him.

"And I thank you for my heart  
>I thank you for my life<br>And I thank god for grace and mercy  
>And that you became my wife<br>I'm seeing for the first time  
>The stars, the sun and moon But they've got nothing on the power<br>Of this love I have for you  
>And I thank you, I thank you..."<p>

The sound of the guitar echoed off the walls as Josh continued, seeing Morgan's eyes begining to glisten with tears. He smiled at her with love and she returned it wiping quickly at her eyes as she watched him move about the room.

_"Now people say they'll stand beside you  
>They swear they never leave<br>When the rain started falling  
>You know it only fell on me<br>And it was hard to keep believing in myself  
>When all I felt was so much pain and guilt and shame<br>I couldn't even ask for help..."_

Josh made his way over to the endtable at the foot of his bed, kicking open the top drawer, expertly. He winked at Morgan, blue eyes sparkling with affection.

_"I don't know if I believe in other lives_  
><em> But when you came<em>  
><em> There was something so familar<em>  
><em> About the way you said my name<em>  
><em> And the whole world started turning<em>  
><em> And I swear that I'd been born again brand new<em>  
><em> And it's all because of you..."<em>

Josh smiled at her, setting down his guitar as he began to dig through the drawer, obviously searching for something. He continued to sing, accapella. His voice was still light, but there was something else to his tone now, like a nervous waver. He launched into the chorus, one final time.

_"And I thank you for my heart_  
><em> I thank you for my life<em>  
><em> I thank god for grace and mercy<em>  
><em> And that you became my wife<em>  
><em> The day I started breathing<em>  
><em> Was the day you took my hand<em>  
><em> And until the day I die <em>  
><em> Baby, I'll forever be your man<em>  
><em> And I thank you, I thank you..."<em>

Just as he sang the last word, his fingers closed around a small, blue velvet box, pulling it from the drawer. He made his way back to over to Morgan, holding the box out in front of himself. He stood in front of her for a moment, unsure of what to do.

Then, he bent down on one knee, opening the box.

"Josh..." Morgan whispered.

Josh scratched at the back of his neck. "Marry me?"

"Of course."

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><p><strong>Author's Note: I'm sure people are wondering what exactly was my reasoning for having that last scene happen. And, let me tell you, I tried to talk myself out of letting it happen...but I couldn't. I just had to find a way to personify the happiness that you can achieve once you get past everything. I couldn't think of a better way to do it-and, once I had this idea, I couldn't stop it. Josh was too adamant about it. But, really, I hope you can understand the importance of this scene, at least to me.<strong>

**Again, I would like to thank all of you for your support, and for any of you who may know what it's like to be in Josh, Emily, Kurt, or Nick's place, please, don't be afraid to message me. Talk to someone. It'll help. I promise everything will get better.**

**Peace, Love, Mark, and Iggy.**

**Kierstin.**


	13. Epilogue: Call Your Name

**Author's Note: I would like to thank Rachel (ZanaWolf if you would like to mob her stories, which you should) for all of her help, whether it be in this chapter, or just being a great supporter to me. Thank you so, so much. Words cannot describe how thankful I am to you. Thank you.**

**Also, I would like to thank all of you who have taken this journey with me. The insipiration, the support, everything; it's been...life-changing to say the least. I only hope this little story means half as much to you as it does to me.**

**As I cannot think of a better way to end it, this will be the last chapter. With Rachel helping iron out the wrinkles and just making it so much _better_, it seems like a good place to end it. Thank you for reading.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or "Call Your Name" by Daughtry.**

**Peace, Love, Mark, and Iggy.**

**Kierstin.**

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><p>Kurt sat on his bed, head in his hands. He didn't know what to think, what to say. What to do. He looked at the clock on his nightstand: 6:13. He groaned, falling back onto his sheets.<p>

Blaine would be there in two minutes...and Kurt still didn't know how to tell him. How to tell him he still loved him, but he wasn't_ in _love with him anymore. How to tell him that he didn't want to get back together but he wanted to be friends.

How to tell him he'd fallen in love with Nick.  
>Kurt sat up, swallowing the rising lump in his throat. At McKinley, they'd always sang about their problems...and it had always helped. Kurt shrugged and got up from the bed and walked slowly in a circle. Opening his mouth, he began to sing:<br>_  
>"You never said, you never said, you never said,<br>That it would be this hard,  
>Love is meant to be forever,<br>Now or never seems to discard."_

He frowned, shaking his head. How was he going to tell him? The Warbler had confessed only two days ago that he was still in love with him, even after all the time that had passed. He didn't know how to turn him away, not now anyway.

_"There's gotta be a better way  
>For me to say,<br>What's on my heart without leaving scars,  
>So can you hear me,<br>When I call your name?"_

Kurt knew Blaine loved him. And, in a way, Kurt reciprocated...but not in the way he had before their breakup, before they had grown apart in some ways. He sighed, walking over to the window and pulling up the cream-colored curtains, dreading the color that would soon have to change or better yet he would just replace them.

_"And when you fall apart,  
>Am I the reason for your endless sorrow,<br>There's so much to be said,  
>And with a broken heart,<br>Your walls can only go down but so low."_

Kurt looked out the window and down to the garden. The brightly colored flowers were beautifully paired with the fading light of the sun. He smiled slightly as he saw a familiar figure huddled up in the gazebo, a book in his lap. His golden-red hair glittered from the sunlight. Even from the distance, Kurt could make out the dazzling smile plastered on his face. He'd seemed so much happier these past few days...

_"Can you hear me,  
>When I call your name?<br>When I call your name?"_

And Kurt knew he was the reason why. Kurt knew Nick saw him as a mentor, as a reason to get better and to live a better life now that they were out and together. To Kurt, the thought was slightly alien...but not unwelcome.

_"Complicated situations are the makings of,  
>All that's wrong,<br>And I've been standin' in the river of deliverance,  
>Just way too long."<em>

He had to tell Blaine today. It would be better to tell him before things got out of hand. It wouldn't be easy, but they both needed closure for what they had had together. They'd be better off this way.

_"There's gotta be a better Way for me to say,  
>What's on my heart,<br>Without leaving scars.  
>So can you hear me,<br>When I call your name?  
>So can you hear me,<br>When I call your name?"_

Kurt turned from the window, making his way back to his bed. He fell against the bed with an ungraceful 'plop.' The counter-tenor reached up to replace a stray hair, continuing his song.

_"And when you fall apart,  
>Am I the reason for your endless sorrow?<br>There's so much to be said,  
>And with a broken heart,<br>Your walls can only go down but so low,  
>Can you hear me When I call your name?<br>When I call your name..."_

"That was beautiful." Kurt looked to the door to see Blaine walking in, his usual dorky smile on his face, making Kurt guess Nick had let him in.

Kurt nodded his thanks at the compliment as Blaine took a seat next to him on the bed. It's now or never, he thought. "Blaine, can I...talk to you?" He avoided Blaine's eyes.

The Warbler's smile faltered a bit and his head cocked slightly to the side. "What about?"

Finally, Kurt met his eyes. "A few days ago, you said that...you still had feelings for me. I've thought about it. A lot…and..."

He stopped when Blaine held up a hand. "And you don't feel the same way." He smiled sadly at the other man. "I get it, I do...I'll be alright." When Kurt tried to protest, Blaine added quietly, "I know. I knew the moment I told you." He smiled that same heartbroken smile. "You couldn't look me in the eye...and you never let go of that pendant." Kurt's hand subconsciously flew to the chain on his neck. So Blaine did know where it had came from...

Kurt let the corner of his mouth turn up. "How did I get so lucky to have you around?"

Blaine's eyes smoldered. "I could ask myself that same question for you." He sighed and stood, clapping his hands together. "Well, I guess that would be my cue to leave."

Kurt frowned. "You drove all the way here...You're just going to turn around and go back?"

Blaine nodded, making his way to the door. "Actually, my aunt lives about twenty minutes from here; I can spend the night on her couch." Blaine leaned against the doorframe, smiling, but pain showed through his brown eyes. He winked anyway. "Besides, you have someone you need to talk to."

Kurt nodded. "I do."

Then the Warbler was gone, gone like the bird he was named after. Perhaps he took Kurt's breath away a bit but he turned away, going back to the window to watch Nick with a smile, seeing his future get up to say goodbye to his past as Blaine stopped to talk to Nick.


End file.
